


tell me that you love me, even if it's fake

by harrystaco



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Major Illness, Prostitution, Sexual activity between every one but L&H sorry, Suicide, Threesome - M/M/M, Unintentional anorexia?, dub-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 00:29:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6031534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrystaco/pseuds/harrystaco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's pessimistic about the world and Louis kind of changes that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell me that you love me, even if it's fake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Threesome -M/M/M  
> Prositution

_**i.** _

Sex isn't intimacy. It isn't the expression of love and desire. It is a basic human need, a build up of hormones and chemicals that cause complications and render men desperate. Men need sex, they crave it; they are even willing to pay for it. You'd be a fool to think a man has sex with you because they love you.

"Come on, kitten, suck it like you mean it."

His calloused fingers tremble in Harry's hair, tangling and gripping at his loose brunette curls so that he can pull his head in any direction he pleases. Harry swallows around his cock and hollows his cheeks, letting him bruise Harry's swollen lips and fuck his throat raw. Harry's gagging echoes and settles within the walls of the shady motel room. His knees begin to ache from digging into the hard springs of the old mattress.

One sharp tug of Harry's scalp and an empty cry later, the man's seed is filling Harry's mouth and taking refuge on his tongue. It's bitter taste makes it hard to swallow but he does, and as he does he can feel the cock slowly pulling out of his mouth and few bills being tossed at his face. Harry looks down at the money after wiping his mouth and counts it out. $350.

Harry climbs up off the bed and stretches out his sore legs. His knees crack and jolt together as he slides his legs into his school trousers and buttons up his shirt. The innocence of a school uniform is part of the appeal for men. It symbolizes power and control for them. Really, they're just pathetic low-lives who have no control in any part of their daily lives.

Harry tucks his 'hard'-earned money into his pocket and pulls on his school blazer, grabbing his school bag off the floor. He tosses it over his shoulder and walks to the door silently, a rough grasp on his wrist stopping him in his tracks. The man turns Harry around just enough to press a kiss to his sweat-damp curls and lets out a satisfied sigh.

"See you next week?" he asks in a rather desperate tone.

Harry nods in solace, "Sure. Bye." He murmurs quickly before pulling his hand away and opening the door. He walks out into the brisk London air and takes a deep breath. He only has one place left to go.

**_ii._ **

"You're here again?" Zayn asks in a mocking tone and when Harry turns to look at him, he can see the pleasant smirk caressing his pretty face. There's a cigarette hanging between Zayn's sharp teeth and he lets out a long drag through his nose before sitting down on the edge of his bed.

Harry slides down onto the floor between Zayn's knees and pull his legs to his chest. "Not like I've got anywhere else to go.." He whispers evocatively, resting his chin on his boney knees.

Zayn leans back and rests his hands against the sheet behind him, holding himself up. "Were you working?" Zayn asks quietly and Harry can feel his eyes on the back of his neck. Harry nods solemnly.

"Yeah."

"Aren't you a little young? You look so innocent," there's a teasing edge to Zayn's voice and his hand squirms around Harry's ear. Zayn pinches his cheek. Harry slaps his hand away bitterly and a hides the smile that tugs at his lush pink lips.

"They've got money and I've got something to sell, simple as that," Harry smirks and turns to look at him, "Plus, I've never seen you complain when I hand you your share."

Zayn smirks and grabs Harry's biceps, gently tugging him up until he complies and settles into Zayn's lap. He cups Harry's jaw roughly and removes the cigarette from his mouth, blowing smoke between Harry's parted lips, "Let's fuck."

Harry wraps my arms around Zayn's neck and kisses him eagerly, the exhaust from the cigarette caught in the infinite fight between their tongues as he rolls Harry over and presses their bodies as close together as they possibly can. Harry moans quietly as their crotches come together, his thighs spreading willingly. Harry tangles his dainty fingers in Zayn's silky black hair, the tickle of his beard sending shivers down Harry's spine.

When their lungs begin to contract at the lack of oxygen, they pull apart with a string of saliva connecting their kiss-swollen lips. "I still have that vibrator inside of me," Harry whispers hotly against Zayn's lips and nearly giggles at the surprised look on Zayn's face. He practically attacks Harry's mouth with a bruising kiss as his hands fumble with Harry's jeans, tugging them down along with his tight boxers.

"Those men are nothing but trash who will never be able to fuck you like I can," Zayn growls possessively and rakes his nails down Harry's smooth skin, leaving red lines of aggression on his soft hips. Harry's cock bounces up against his stomach once it's released from its confinement and smears pre-cum along his navel. Zayn's tongue is hot against his skin as he laps at it, burning every nerve ending it touches. "You always taste so sweet," Zayn whispers and sits up, tugging Harry's pants all the way down and lifting his ankles out of them. He tosses them onto the floor carelessly and spreads Harry's thighs with nimble fingers. Harry closes his eyes and let's Zayn indulge himself.

He doesn't need love to be able to fuck someone, love just gets in the way.

Zayn taught him that.

**_iii._ **

Walking to school the next morning is a bit of a hassle. There's a dull ache between Harry's legs but it's warm and constant and it reminds him of Zayn. Harry hums contently at the thought of their time together last night, though it was short lived. Zayn likes to sleep and he passes out after every one of their fucks. He also rarely wakes up before noon so Harry doesn't see him often because of his other responsibilities like school and 'work.' Harry left him with his vibrator and an empty bed.

On the second to last block to school, Harry's spots an old woman with a broom and dustpan out on the side walk. She's sweeping up the dirt and other used trash that people leave scattered along the cement. Just as she stands up and looks about finished, a man walks buy and tosses his cigarette, crushing it beneath his shoe before moving on as if he hadn't seen her just clean the sidewalk.

Harry tuck his skinny hands into his pockets and clenches his jaw as the tall, foul-looking man passes by him. Harry stops behind the old woman.

"Who do you bother?" He asks quietly, mainly to myself. He would never spend an ounce of effort trying to rid this world of the filth that consumes it. It's like a dragon; cut off the head and three more grow back.

The old woman turns around with wide eyes at first, but then she smiles with her entire face and her eyes crinkle. She's laughs with a gentle wheeze from her nose. At first she doesn't answer, instead she leans the broom and dustpan against the gate of her house and kneels done with her fragile body and straightens out a flower pot.

"What are you doing?" Harry insists.

"I'm going to grow some flowers. Do you want to grow some as well?" The old woman asks gently as she pulls out a packet from the little apron she's wearing around her waist.

"You're growing them yourself?" Harry asks in disbelief, pushing his messy fringe out of his eyes. (He's been growing his hair out lately but it's more of a hassle than anything.) The city is so polluted lately that people can barely keep crops alive, that's why they have so many imported products from other countries.

The older woman stays quiet for a while before glancing up at Harry with her gentle brown eyes, "What's your name?" This woman seems to be the queen at answering questions with questions.

"Harry." He whispers softly.

The woman nods, some of her wispy gray hair falling loose from where it was tucked behind her ear. "Well, Harry, I'll give these flowers to you once they bloom." She says proudly as she sprinkles the seeds into the hole in the dirt before patting it over.

Harry huffs disapprovingly and doesn't even wait for her to finish before he starts walking away, having had enough of her nonsense.

**_iv._ **

It's been a while since Harry even attempted to attend school. Probably two weeks at least? As he walks through the hallway, he can hear the whispers of privileged teens around him and feel their judgmental glares.

"I'm surprised he even showed up."

"I thought he dropped out already."

"What is he doing here?"

Harry ignored them, the way he always does, and walks into his classroom, pushing the door open and making his way to the back of the class. Harry sits down in my usual spot beside the window and slings his bag atop the desk.

Before Harry even has time to relax into his seat, the usual blonde idiot who seems to be stuck up his ass bounces into the classroom and his eyes light up at the sight of Harry. He practically lunges at Harry's desk, sinking into the seat in front of him and putting his chest to the back of the chair so he's facing him.

"Haz! I haven't seen you in the longest time! I've missed you so much!" Niall cries out in happiness.

Harry sighs heavily and roll his eyes fondly, "You know I hate that nickname," Harry mutters and crosses my arms, turning to stare out of the window. He doesn't hate it all that much, really.

"Hey, I was wondering...if you have some free time after school, we should hang out!" Niall suggests excitedly, staring at Harry with his giant puppy dog eyes.

"I guess." Harry shrugs nonchalantly.

Niall gleams with happiness before turning around in his seat and facing the front of the room. Niall has always had a big personality, so even though it's very annoying, Harry is very, very used to it.

Out of the corner of Harry's eye, he notices a group of teenagers glaring at Niall like he's some kind of disease. Harry narrows his eyes in a protective manner and one of the boys who makes eye contact with him visibly shivers and turns away, nervously chomping on his bottom lip.

"That's what I thought, dumbass." He mutters it under his breath and Niall gives him a curious look before shrugging and pulling out his notebook.

Although he would never admit it, he's very fond of Niall.

**_v._ **

"Thanks." Harry mutters as Niall hands him his latte, watching the blotchy-cheeked boy sit down beside him. Harry crosses his legs and takes a small sip of his drink.

"No problem!" Niall grins happily. He takes a sip of his drink and when he looks up, his gaze is distant.

"So. Where are we going?" Harry asks softly, staring down at the warm beverage in his hand. It's a nice contrast to the harsh winter wind.

"Ah...well, I'm not quite sure. I'm also running low on cash, so..." Before Niall can even finish his train of thought, Harry hears footsteps approaching.

"I've got cash."

Harry hardly looks up when he hears Niall gasp in surprise. "Five hundred for the both of you?"

Harry rolls his eyes at the offer before standing up. "You can have Niall alone." He muttered before walking past the old man.

"What!?" Niall's voice is almost two octaves higher as he whips around to look at Harry in disbelief. "N-No. I'll only do it if we stay together, Haz."

"Sounds good to me."

Harry turns to look at his classmate and then the old man, sighing heavily as he squares his shoulders and stares directly into the man's eyes. "One thousand for the two of us." Harry says firmly, raising an eyebrow as if to challenge the man.

"That's a bit pricey, don't you think? How about eight hundred?"

"I said one thousand and not a cent less."

Harry can always get what he wants in these situations. It's the only place he has some type of control. He just feels bad for Niall. He doesn't understand the world the way Harry does. He doesn't understand that sex is just a matter of seconds you have to endure.

The walk back to the man's apartment is quiet. Niall is staring at the ground anxiously and Harry is picking at a loose string on his blazer absentmindedly. When they walk inside, the apartment reeks of incense and cheap perfume. Harry wrinkles his nose as they set their school bags down and slide off their shoes.

Niall grabs Harry's hand for support and because Harry knows this is his first time doing something like this, he squeezes back and leads Niall into the man's bedroom.

"Show me what you've got, boys." The man's voice is rough and thick with lust, making Harry shiver in disgust. Niall is a blushing mess beside him.

Harry reaches down to his school trousers and unbuttons them before sliding them down his legs. He barely gets his ankles out before the man is gripping his thighs, digging the calloused pads of his fingers into his skin as he spreads them.

"Fucking beautiful." The man grunts and then he's leaning in, pressing his tongue against the puckered skin of Harry's entrance.

This is what men desperately what- what they are willing to pay for.

Harry lays back against the bed and turns his head to watch as Niall slowly gets undressed as well, their eyes meeting. Harry breathes softly and squeezes his hand reassuringly once more.

That's the last nudge Niall needs before he gets involved. They spend the next hour, kissing each other while Harry rides the man's dick and Niall let's the man's rough tongue ravage his tight hole. Within no time, they're flushed, panting and one thousand dollars richer.

When they say goodbye that night, Harry kisses Niall's cheek, hands him five hundred dollars and walks away. There are no words to be said.

That is how the world works. It is how the world has always worked and Harry has learned to live with that. He just secretly wishes he could be as naive about the world as Niall is. It would make the ache in his chest just that more bearable.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is based off a manga called Deep Love. I think it's a beautiful story even though there's a lot of tragedy in it. Also, most of the bad stuff that has been tagged doesn't even happen to Harry. So...enjoy?
> 
> Also,,,, the smut isn't great because that's not what the story is about okay!??!


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